


The Martian and the Flight Director

by StillTryingToFly



Series: People Mark Watney needs to buy a beer [4]
Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Missing Scene, Post-Canon, being bad at golf, goddamn NASA politics, swearing like drunken sailors on shore leave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StillTryingToFly/pseuds/StillTryingToFly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitch buys a beer for the man who went against NASA's orders for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Martian and the Flight Director

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read The Hermes Mutiny Golf Club by waldorph you should, and not just because it is the basis for many of my head canons for Mitch but because it is hilarious. In this version of events I follow movie canon that has Mitch 'retiring' after the Ares III returns home, but I uses waldorph's idea that he would become a lobbyist for NASA.

Mitch Henderson was sitting in the clubhouse watching Mark Watney eat with both incredible gusto and an appalling lack of table manners.

“All I’m saying is that no matter how good you are at lobbying for funds it's a shame you had to ‘retire’ from being flight director because of what happened.” Mark Watney talks with his mouth full and Mitch wonders if it's a habit he picked up on Mars.

“Did you always talk with your mouth full, or did you just lose all your manners on Mars?” Mitch Henderson never claimed to be sensitive to other people’s feelings.

“Fuck you Henderson,” Mark said cheerfully through a mouthful of steak.

They were sitting by the wall of windows in the dining room that overlooked the gently rolling green of the golf course where they had just spent the past two hours. Mark Watney might be the man who survived Mars, but he was truly awful at golf.

Mitch studied Mark as he ate; the chair the botanist was sitting in was so high his feet didn’t touch the ground and he was swinging his legs back and forth like a little kid. Mitch sighed as he poked unenthusiastically at the overpriced salad in front of him and wondered if he dared to order a steak and hope his husband wouldn’t find out. He decided he didn’t dare; he was both disturbed and impressed with husband’s ability to charm and bribe waitstaff into doing exactly what he wanted. Including but not limited to spying on Mitch’s eating habits when he wasn’t around.

“So Watney, did you want to talk about something besides my unexpected career change, or do you just like overpriced overrated food?”

“You’re just bitter cause of your short leash,” Watney said inclining his head toward Mitch’s salad. The dick.

“Fuck you Watney. You were marooned on Mars; how are you in better shape than me?”

Watney shrugged. “I was an astronaut. We have to be in great health to start with and I’ve had nearly constant medical attention for years.” Mark takes a sip of his water and his eyes light up with mischief. “Plus I’m like twenty five years younger than you anyway.”

Now that is a damn lie.

“Fifteen years, you motherfucker.”

Mark snorts and waves his hand for the waiter’s attention.

“You invited me here so you could kick my ass at golf you prick.”

“You invited yourself and it's not my fault you suck at the sport.”

“It is not a sport; it is an activity. Like croquet.”

Mitch flipped him off just as the waiter arrived with two bottles of beer.

“Enjoy your lunch gentlemen,” was all the young man said before turning and heading back to the kitchen.

“For your information Henderson, _this_ is why I wanted to see you today, not so you could laugh at my pathetic golf skills,” and he pushed one of the bottles closer to Mitch.

Mitch muttered that Watney was going to pay for the activity comment later as Mark rolled his eyes at him. Mitch picked up the bottle closest to him and regarded the goose on the label before flicking his eyes up to Watney who was already sipping his beer with a smug look on his face.

“ _Really_ Watney? You aren’t worried about being a stereotype?”

“Nope,” was his cheerful reply.

**Author's Note:**

> I have three more stories planned in this series (in fact I have started all of them) and if for some reason you like my writing I have a few more stories planned for this fandom.


End file.
